Cause and Effect
by McDiggin'It
Summary: Hermione Granger firmly believes that there is a reason for everything. For every cause, there is usually something affected by it. She finds Barty Crouch Jr. being the cause of her headaches, and the effects are quite… unpredictable.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Cause and Effect

Summary: Hermione Granger firmly believes that there is a reason for everything. For every cause, there is usually something affected by it. She finds Barty Crouch Jr. being the cause of her headaches, and the effects are quite… unpredictable.

Author's Note: Hello you lovely people! First off, thanks for stopping by to read this. I really appreciate it. Second, this is really kind of plotless. It's just a bit of fluff and romance with a tiny little twist to it. Third, I hope you'll enjoy reading this first chapter. Let me know what you think afterwards, please. R&R!

-McDiggin'It

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter. It belongs to J.K Rowlings. I'm not making jack-shit from this story, so don't sue me, please!

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Chapter One:

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There are rare moments in the life of Hermione Granger, in which she'll find herself confused about something. Today, at 6a.m is one of those rare moments. She blinks rapidly at the unconscious man lying haphazardly in her bed, bleeding, bruised, and smelling of strong liquor. Normally, she would've immediately begun to tend to his wounds because her conscience is quite sensitive to injured people, but this was different. The man in her bed (she's still trying to figure out _why, how, _and _when _he got into her bed, let alone her flat) is none other than the once notorious, believed to be dead, mass-murderer, Bartemius Crouch Jr.

She is beyond confused. Not only does she not know how he got into her bed _and _her home, she doesn't know what to do with him. Hex him? Tie him up? Call the Ministry Aurors? Call Harry and Ron? Wake him up? Tend to his wounds? Slap him for nearly scaring the life out of her when she walked into her bedroom? Honestly, she's leaning towards her last thought.

However badly she wants to let someone else deal with a man who should've been rotting away in cell in Azkaban, her conscious has already had enough time (20 minutes) to eat away at her, and she begins to summon bandages and potions from her emergency cabinet in her bathroom. It takes her 5 minutes to locate where the worst damage has been done to his body, and another 25 minutes trying to clean it up with magic alone. Now comes the hard part. Getting him out of his blood-stained clothe and into some clean clothes. The only things she has that'll fit him are an old pair of Harry's sweatpants, and one of Ron's shirts she had borrowed from him when they were younger.

She stares at Barty, not sure of how to get him out of his clothes. He was much bigger and much heavier than she is, and he's unconscious, so she definitely can't rely on him to help her get him into the clean clothes she found. Taking a deep breath, she kneels beside his hip on her bed, her fingers shaking as they curl around the fabric of the dirty, tattered shirt he's wearing. She pauses, looking up at his face. Now that his face is clean and void of blood and cuts, he looked almost… handsome. If he were a complete stranger to her and she was seeing him for the first time, she would've thought he was extremely attractive and she probably would've developed a few inappropriate thoughts about him… but he's Bartemius Crouch Jr. A Death Eater, and an insane murderer. A thought hits her as her eyes drift towards his right forearm. Biting her lip, she slowly pulls back the sleeve of his shirt, and she's not sure whether to be relieved that he doesn't have the Dark mark on his arm anymore, or repulsed that she actually _hoped_ that he wouldn't still have the Dark mark. Like, what was she going to get from him if he isn't a Death Eater? A lollipop? Shaking her head as if it would rid it of her thoughts, she begins to undress him. His shirt is a bit easier to take off than she thought, but that's the easiest part. Now comes his pants. He's wearing muggle jeans that are about two sizes too big for him, only held together by a leather belt. She first undoes his belt, before she stares at the button of his jeans. She can't believe she's actually about to undress Bartemius Crouch Jr. of all people.

"Just get it over with, Hermione." She whispers encouragingly to herself. She takes a deep breath again, willing her hands to stop shaking. It takes a couple of tries, but she finally manages to pop the button out of the hole on the jeans. She's careful not to let her other fingers touch the fabric of his jeans as she carefully zips down his jeans, her mouth suddenly going dry as she stares at the dark fabric of his underwear. "Stop staring!" she whispers furiously to herself as she forces her eyes closed.

"I don't mind."

Hermione's heart leaps into the air, does a back flip in her throat and plummets straight through her stomach as her eyes snap open to meet a pair of light brown eyes staring back at her in amusement. She all but screams, stumbling backwards and landing ungracefully on her buttocks.

Barty groans, trying to sit up but quickly giving up as pain shoots up his side. He thinks he might have broken a rib or something. "Please don't scream again." He mutters pleadingly as he holds his head in his hands. "My head feels like it'll split in two any moment now."

Hermione quickly hops to her feet, whirling around and snatching her wand off the nightstand where she had left it to strip Barty out of his clothes. "Whh—what are—how did you get into my home?" she asks as she points her wand at him.

Barty raises his eyebrows at her. "Is the wand necessary? I doubt I'll be able to do much in my state." He tells her and points to his own bruised body.

Hermione keeps her wand pointed at him but doesn't say anything.

He shrugs, "I don't know how I got here. I just remember running from…" he trails off, realizing that he has no idea what he was running from. "Something." He finalizes. "And then everything went dark and I woke up to some strange girl trying to undress me."

"I was trying to help you!" Hermione says defensively.

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" he asks teasingly, earning him a glare from her.

"For your information, Bartemius," she notes how he winces at the name, "you're the one who is in _my _bed, in _my _home! I didn't know what to do with you when I found you half-dead, bleeding into my sheets and pillows, so I did what any sane person with a conscience would do and tried to save your life, so you should be thanking me."

Barty blinks at her for a moment before smiling at her. "Sorry. Thank you." He nods, looking around at her red painted bedroom walls. " How do you know my name?... Nice room, by the way."

Hermione wanted to hex him, but refrained. "What should I do with you?" she doesn't know why she's even asking him. What she _should _do, is notify all the Aurors in the Ministry of Magic about the murderer who's supposed to be rotting away in Azkaban, lying in her bed. But she doesn't.

He shrugs at her. "You could continue what you were doing." He says cheekily, nodding at the crotch of his jeans.

Hermione could've hexed him, or put him to sleep with a simple spell. She could've told him to go to hell and hit him on the head with something hard. She could've punched him, and kicked him out of her house. Instead, she just throws the change of clothes at him, calls him a pervert, and storms out of the bedroom.

He changes quickly after she leaves, chuckling to himself. Afterwards, he takes the time to inspect his wounds. He's sore all over, but otherwise, he feels fine. He knows he's supposed to be in a lot more pain if the blood all over the bed is any indication, but apparently, the girl who just stormed out of the room did a pretty damn good job at healing him. He knows he has to thank her… but first, he's starving and he needs food in his stomach before he can thank her properly. With that in mind, he leaves the bedroom in search of food.

...

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Author's Note: I know it's kind of short and kind of pointless, but I really enjoy writing half-assed plots of Hermione and Barty. I basically love writing fluff and romance and all that lovey-dovey crap. And if you haven't noticed from my other stories, I really love this pairing. I hope you all love them too. Anyhow, let me know what you all think! Good? Bad? Weird? Should I stop and delete this story? Or should I continue? Let me know! Thanks for reading and please review!

-McDiggin'It


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Cause and Effect

Pairing: Hermione/Barty Jr

Author's Note: Hello! First off, thank you so much to everyone who left a review. I really really appreciate it. Second, thanks for reading and following and favoriting. I appreciate that as well. Anyway, this is chapter two and I hope you all like it. Thanks for reading, and please review!

-McDiggin'It

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Chapter Two:

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Of all the apartments in the world, he just _had _to wake up in an apartment that belonged to someone who not only _knows_ him, but _hates_ him as well. Today, is just _not_ his day… and it's only 7a.m!

He tells himself he doesn't care what she thinks of him as he eats his breakfast in silence. She made eggs, bacon, pancakes, with toast and orange juice before leaving him alone with it. He wrinkles his nose at the gooey syrup inside the small cup beside his plate, and he pushes it away from him. He's never been a fan of sweet, icky, goop. Ice cream, chocolate, caramel, vanilla, maple syrup or any kind of syrup, tastes like glue to him… well, not literally, but you get the idea. He's not a sweet person. He doesn't have a single sweet tooth. He likes having all of his teeth intact, and he wants to keep it that way. He eats his bacon and eggs, nibbles on the piece of toast, drains the cup of orange juice, and doesn't touch the pancakes. It's dry without syrup, and he doesn't like syrup, so he'd rather not eat it. When he's done, he pushes his chair back, takes his plate to the sink and waves a hand over it, causing the dish to start washing itself. He's glad that it doesn't take much concentration to wash a single dish because he's not at his full strength, and his wandless magic is shit without his full strength.

He keeps his thoughts away from the angry girl in the other room, probably waiting for him to finish eating breakfast before she kicks him out of her home. He takes his time to get to the den, his eyes roaming over the walls and shelves of books, picture frames, and ceramic figurines that decorate the place. To be honest, the place was kind of cute. It's very small compared to the Crouch manor, but it was very warm, comfortable, and… nice. When he reaches the den, he peaks through the door. He furrows his eyebrows at the girl as she scribbles something on a piece of parchment. He thinks it might be a letter. Probably a letter to the Minister of Magic, notifying the Ministry about the man inside her home. He blinks at her as his eyes roam over her entire form. She looked oddly familiar to him. Brown hair, light brown eyes, school uniform, and a hand always shooting in the air, flashes before his eyes. He cocks his head to the side, a small grin forming on his lips as he compares the annoying little know-it-all from Hogwarts to the eye-catching woman sitting ten feet in front of him. Her hair was a little longer now, and tamed… no longer wild. And the way she spoke to him… even when she was angry, her voice held every much supremacy that her eyes do. He smiles, but quickly lets it dissolve as he finally steps into the room and clears his throat loudly.

Hermione looks up from the parchment on her lap and squints at Barty Crouch Jr. "What do you want?"

Barty raises an eyebrow at her. "Aren't you going to try and restrain me?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I deserve it?"

Hermione shakes her head as she waves a hand towards the couch. "Have a seat." She's come to a conclusion. All things happen for a reason, right? So maybe, Bartemius Crouch Jr, ending up in her home isn't just a coincidence. It's fate. He was destined to be chased down by… something, and ended up unconscious in her bed for a reason… now all she has to figure out, is what that reason is. She watches him as he gives her a skeptical look and crosses the room to sit across from her on the couch. She waits a very long moment before she finally speaks. "Why are you here?" she asks carefully. _Yes, that seems like a good question to start with._

Barty shrugs at her, eyeing the wand in her hand. "I don't know."

She nods, figuring that he probably doesn't remember much anyway. "How did you get here?" she asks second.

He shrugs again, "I don't know."

Hermione runs her tongue over her teeth as she takes a deep breath through her nose. "Do you remember who I am?"

He _does_ remember her, but… he's not about to admit that yet, so he shrugs (again) at her. "I don't know."

"Do you know_ anything_ at all?" she asks, irritated. He shrugs at her again, and she's tempted to petrify him so he'd stop shrugging his bloody shoulders.

He holds up a single finger as if to tell her that he's remembering something. "You're that girl," he mutters so softly, she almost didn't catch it. "The know-it-all who always has her hand in the air in class."

Hermione's nose flares as she glares at him. "I'm not a know-it-all!" she snaps at him.

He quirks an eyebrow at her, "No?"

"No."

"Can you name one book in this house you haven't read twice?"

Hermione's eyes shoot towards the rows and rows of books on the shelf against the wall, and she knows for a fact that she's read them all… twice… maybe even more. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothing." Barty shrugs at her. He really does that a lot.

"None."

"Is that a name of a book, or is that your answer to my question?"

Hermione rolls her eyes at him then, "That's my answer, but—,"

"Then you're a know-it-all."

"What?"

He shrugs, yet again. "You know. It. All."

"Okay, this isn't going anywhere. I'm trying to find out _how_ you got here, and _why_ you're here."

Barty blinks at her then. "_And_?"

"And _what_?"

He shrugs at her again, "_You're_ the know-it-all. I have no idea how I _got_ here."

Hermione groans, leaning her head back and pinching the bridge of her nose. She tries to think of something that would tell her anything useful, but she has nothing. She settles for asking, "What's the last thing you remember?"

"I told you. I was being chased by something, and then everything went dark. I woke up to you trying to undress me, and—,"

"Stop." Hermione interrupts. "This isn't helping."

He smirks at her as he runs a hand through his hair. There's a long silence as he watches her watch him. "So… did you like what you saw when you were undressing me?"

Hermione rolls her eyes at him, "That is an irrelevant question."

"Because you did?"

"I did not." Hermione says angrily.

He chuckles, shaking his head at her. "If I recall correctly, I heard you telling yourself not to stare."

She really is tempted to hex him now, and she tightens her hand on her wand. "Don't tempt me, Crouch."

"Ah, well it's not my fault that you're tempted, Granger."

Hermione quirks an eyebrow at him. "You remember my name?"

He shrugs at her. "Not many Grangers out there, ya know?"

"Right." She says sarcastically. "Well, since you don't remember anything, then I can't really do much for you, and I'm afraid that I can't let you stay here any longer."

He looks at her long and hard, cocking his head from side to side. Finally, after what felt like an hour long silence, he speaks. "Legilimens."

"Excuse me?"

"Find out what I'm doing here, and how I even got here." He shrugs as if it's nothing.

Hermione is quiet for a moment, her mind working a mile per minute. If she performs the Legilimens on him, she'll be able to see each and every one of his thoughts and memories. She's not sure she wants to look inside the mind of a perverted man who used to work for Voldemort of all people. But he has a point. That might possibly be the only way that they can figure out why he's there, and how he got there. Of course, she could also turn him into the Ministry, but… she's always been quite the curious one, and this was just too good to pass up. Finally, she nods. "If you want, then I'll do it."

He shrugs at her, "Wouldn't have told you to do it if I didn't want it."

She nods, getting up out of her seat. "Fine."

...

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Harry Potter was exhausted. He's hungry, tired, and aching all over from today's work, and all he wants is a nice hot meal, a long relaxing bath, and his warm bed. But, his girlfriend has other plans for him tonight, and he can't very well say no to her without getting hexed. He's already been thrown across a field by a very large, fire-breathing dragon, and he has no desire to be thrown across his flat by his short-tempered girlfriend as well. Groaning slightly, he knocks on the door to the burrow, waiting for one of the redheaded Weasley's to answer the door. Thankfully, instead of one of the more serious redheads, he's greeted by Fred's ever-present grin. "Hiya, Harry."

"Hey, Fred… Is Ginny here?"

Fred snorts, giving him the once over. "You're in a heap of trouble, Mr. Potter."

Harry's face takes on an alarmed expression as he blinks at the redhead. "What? Why? I didn't do anything… did I?"

Fred shrugs, "Beats me… Gin has been pacing her room for the past half hour, cursing your name and swearing that she'll strangle you when she sees you."

The dark haired man groans as he steps through the doorway and looks up the stairs of doom, leading to Ginny's room. "She's not… she's not really mad at me, is she?"

Fred snorts as he claps Harry on the back. "No… I think." He shrugs and gestures towards the stairs. "Only one way to find out, right?"

Harry sighs heavily with a nod. "Right." As he begins up the stairs, his heart begins to hammer inside his chest. He's been seeing Ginny for a very long time, and he knows she's still angry at him for taking so long to propose to her. And it's not like he doesn't want to… it's just that he hasn't found the right time to do it. He reaches her door and stares at it for a long moment, not sure if he should knock or walk right in. In the end, he decides to just walk into the room. Without warning, the door swings open, revealing his redheaded (and red-faced) girlfriend, hands on her hips, and eyes clouded with anger.

"Where the bloody hell were you, Harry?"

"Work."

"Yes! Work. Every single time I ask you that question, it's always the same answer. Work this and work that. I was at work. I just got back from work… You know what? If you love your work so much, why don't you just move into the Ministry?"

"Whoa, that's a little harsh, Ginny."

"Harsh? I'm at home, worrying sick about you, wondering if you're alive after those stupid, unplanned missions you're always on, and you're going to say I'm a little harsh? You risk your neck to solve other people's problems and you won't even send a bloody letter to let me know that your head is still attached to your damned shoulders?"

Harry sighs heavily, resisting the urge to groan as he crosses the room and sits down on Ginny's childhood bed. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Ginny asks in disbelief. "That's it?"

"What do you want me to say, Ginny?"

Ginny rolls her eyes at her boyfriend and plops down beside him before burying her head in her hands. "Harry, you're—I don't understand how you don't see the problem."

"That's because there is no problem."

"And that's exactly it! You think we don't have problems, but we do! We don't even talk anymore!"

"We're talking right now."

"We're bloody screaming at each other is what we're doing!" Ginny cries.

Harry groans loudly as that. "Gin, I don't even know what you want from me!"

"You don't…" Ginny trails off, her eyes beginning to fill with tears, making Harry feel like utter filth. "I see." She nods, slowly, her eyes trained on the floor now.

Harry has no idea what to say, but like a miracle, he's saved from saying anything at all as Hermione's owl comes swooping in through Ginny's window and landing right beside him. Both he and Ginny stare at it for a moment before Ginny crosses the room and takes the letter attached to the owl's foot and sending it on its merry way. She opens the letter hurriedly and reads to herself, her eyes roaming from left to right. Harry watches her silently, taking note of how her eyes begin to widen with each sentence she reads. Now _he _was curious.

"What's it say?"

Ginny looks up from the letter and quirks an eyebrow at him before continuing reading. When she's done, she folds it up and leaves the room without another word. Harry can only watch in confusion as she closes the door behind her as she leaves. He doesn't let it end at that though, and he follows her. "What happened?" he asks curiously as he jogs after her.

Ginny shrugs at him, "Girl trouble." with that, she apparates immediately on the spot, leaving a dumbstruck Harry to stare at the now unoccupied space she was just standing in, in utter confusion.

"Awkwaaaard." Fred says humorously and immediately apparates away as well.

...

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When he opens his eyes, he finds four different pairs of eyes blinking down at him. He groans a little, scratching the back of his head as he sits up and looks around. He's still in Hermione's apartment, still in her living room, but not still on her couch. He's now on Hermione's hearth rug on the floor, sweating buckets and feeling like he had just run a marathon. "Enjoying the view, I see." He manages with a half-smirk.

Hermione rolls her eyes, turning to glare at the owners of the other pairs of eyes as their giggles meet her ears. "Honestly." She hisses at the other three girls. She turns back to Barty, watching as he tries to get up off the ground but only managing to slump towards the couch. She lets him, not wanting to help him onto the couch and giving him another reason to think that the whole female population is infatuated with his good looks (not that she thinks he's good looking or anything). "Do you remember now?"

Barty takes deep breaths as he scoots up on the couch and leans back with a slight nod. "Dragon… Romanian if I'm not mistaken."

Hermione nods. "That's correct… you were in Romania exactly eight hours ago, being chased by a Romanian Dragon, Barty… none of this makes sense, but… you apparated directly into my bedroom from Romania. Explain to me why that is? You've never even _been _to my apartment, let alone seen it."

Barty shakes his head and rubs his forehead as if it would pop out an answer to Hermione's question. "That is a very excellent question, Granger. Fifty points to Gryffindor." He says sarcastically.

Ginny, Luna, and Parvati let out little giggles before quieting down at Hermione's glare. Hermione isn't even sure why she invited them over. Sure she trusts them to keep this a secret, but they're hardly the kind of people who can quite focus on something… well, maybe just Ginny. Luna is okay, but most of the time she's in her own little world. Parvati on the other hand, had admitted to finding Barty extremely sexy from the moment she had laid eyes on his unconscious body earlier today while he was in a memory-filled sleep. Hermione sighs and shakes her head, standing back and putting her hands on her hips. "I think we should go again."

Barty quirks an eyebrow at her and smirks. "If you insist… Your friends don't seem to mind." He nods at the other three.

Hermione rolls her eyes at him and without warning, flicks her wand at him. "Legilimens!"

Flashes of his life zoom before her very eyes, and she watches in awkward amazement as he turns younger and younger in his memories. She lets her mind wander a little, admiring the way he's almost always smiling or laughing in most of his memories. She notes how he kind of looks like Harry when he was younger. She's surprised to find that he wasn't a Slytherin, but rather, a Ravenclaw. He was prefect in his fifth year and head boy a year later, up until he joined Voldemort and dropped out of Hogwarts. She expects to see his life immediately turning dark, but instead she finds a happier Barty in his early Death Eater days. It continues that way until Harry's parents were murdered. Then his life takes a dark turn and he begins to kill mercilessly. Hundreds of innocent lives, indirectly in his hands. Murder, nonetheless.

Hermione closes her eyes for a mere moment, trying to collect herself as Barty's memories continue to zoom past her eyes. Finally, she opens her eyes again and the memories pause in the time he had been in Azkaban, his soul already sucked out of him. He's lying in his cell, staring emptily at the ceiling. His eyes are sunken in, his clothes are tattered and dirty, his hair is a lot longer than it is now, and his body is thin and frail. She watches for a long moment as he continues to lie there, day in and day out, existing, but not living. Soulless, empty, and miserable. Suddenly, she couldn't take it anymore, and she breaks away from the spell, falling to her knees and taking deep breaths.

Hermione ignores the hands that pat her back and wipe the sweat on her forehead. She keeps her eyes closed, not wanting to open them just yet. She refuses to let her mind wander towards what she just saw of the man lying on her couch, and she takes a shaky breath as she slowly gets to her feet again. She looks at him, and for once, he's not smirking or saying anything completely perverted. He just… looks at her as if he can see right through her.

"I think that's enough for tonight." She tells him, turning towards the girls. "Luna, does Ron require you to be at home tonight?"

Luna shakes her head, "He's in Romania with Charlie."

Hermione's eyebrows furrow as she glances back at Barty, who's still completely silent and staring at the ceiling. She inwardly shivers as the image of him in Azkaban, staring at the ceiling of his cell flashes before her eyes. She turns away quickly, looking at Luna. "Can you stay with me tonight then?"

Luna nods with a smile. "Of course."

Ginny nudges Hermione on the shoulder. They don't know what she saw, but she can tell that Hermione is a bit shaken up by it. "We'll all stay with you tonight."

Parvati nods in agreement. "Neville won't be home until tomorrow morning. He's still convinced he can find a quick cure for the Chicken Flu."

Hermione nods her gratefulness and turns back to Barty. "You can sleep here on the couch or take the guest room down the hall. Don't try anything funny or I _will _hex you and send you to the Ministry."

He quirks an eyebrow at the four of them. "Are you all going to share one bed?"

Hermione forcefully pulls Parvati away as the girl begins to answer. "Don't answer that."

Barty can only laugh as he watches them head towards Hermione's bedroom. "At least I got to sleep there last night!" he calls jokingly.

...

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Author's Note: Well, that was… weird. I don't know if you guys liked this, but I did my best. Thanks so much for reading, and please review!

-McDiggin'It

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	3. Chapter 3

Title: Cause and Effect

Author's Note: Well hello there you lovely people! First off, thank you so much to those who left a review on the previous chapters. I really appreciate it. Thank you! Also, thanks to those who read, followed, and favorited this story. It brings me great joy to know that you all enjoyed it so much. I apologize for the bit of delay on the update, but I'm finally done now, so enjoy!

P.S- Ignore the OOC bits and pieces. I can't keep them in character without ruining the plot of the story.

-McDiggin'It

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Chapter Three:

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His eyelids feel like they've been glued together, but he forces them open. His breakfast certainly isn't agreeing with his stomach and he feels the need to upchuck its contents. "Seriously, who came up with a spell that would render you incapable of functioning properly?"

"Merlin." Hermione answers for him.

He manages to pry his eyes open, and he has to suppress the grin that wants so badly to form on his face because he's actually seeing twelve Hermione's. "Of course… the old nutcase couldn't make it so the victims of the spell could be able to at least tell which one of you is real?"

Hermione quirks a questioning eyebrow at him. "No… unfortunately he also didn't make it so the 'victims' of the spell would be incapable of speech as well." She mutters. "How many of me do you see?"

"Well," Barty squints up at Hermione and smiles. "…just before you asked me that question? Twelve."

Hermione nods, making a mental note of that. "And now?"

Barty snorts, trying to count how many Hermione's are left. "Five… I think."

"Right… I saw a bit of what you saw before the Romanian dragon chased you down." Hermione tells him. "Why the bloody hell would you wake up a sleeping dragon?"

Barty tries to think back on what his memories could tell him, but it's all a little blurry. "Not sure, but I think I needed it."

"You needed a dragon to chase you down?" Hermione asks confusedly.

At that, Barty rolls his eyes at her as if she's not seeing the point. "Of course not. I meant I needed the dragon for something, but ended up being chased by it."

Hermione nods, trying to follow along. "And what exactly was it that you needed?"

Barty scratches the back of his head for a moment as he sits up slowly. He blinks back at the only Hermione left and smiles. "You."

"Me? Why do you need me?"

Barty chuckles shaking his head, "I meant you're you."

"Not following."

"There were five of you, and now there's only you."

Hermione shakes her head with a sigh. "That doesn't answer my question."

Barty rolls his eyes at her and tries to sit up straight on the couch. "Oh come on… don't the people of your generation just relax and talk about things that don't hurt your head?"

"I'm trying to find out what you're doing here, Barty!" Hermione snaps. "Not talk about things that don't hurt your head."

Again, he rolls his eyes. "We've been at this for hours! Can't a man have his rest after long hours of sweaty and exhaustive activities?"

She knows he's making it sound dirtier than it is just to get under her skin, but she can't really say it's not working. She was about ready to hex him into oblivion. "Fine. We can take a break. But we're not going to be drinking Martini's and braiding each other's hair."

Barty lets out a loud whoop as he pumps a fist into the air. "Deal... let's have some Scotch instead."

She was about to snap out a stern 'No!', but stopped at the last moment. _Maybe the only thing that would make it easier for me to work without having this pompous git disturbing me with his dirty, perverted comments would be to get him so drunk, he wouldn't even remember his own name. _With that in mind, she stores away her initial disagreement with the idea for future use and shrugs at him. "No harm in that, I suppose."

Barty blinks at her for a moment before his face splits into a grin. "That is probably the first thing you've said to me that makes complete sense." He mutters teasingly.

Hermione rolls her eyes at him as she gets up off the end of the couch and moves towards the kitchen in search of a bottle of Scotch and two glasses of ice. "I'll be right back."

...

* * *

…

"Where were you?" Harry asks immediately when Ginny enters their shared apartment.

Ginny looks up to find her boyfriend sitting on the couch in the den, nursing a glass of Fire whiskey. "Hermione's."

Harry waits for an explanation, but it doesn't come. Ginny only shrugs out of her coat, kicks off her shoes and proceeds to get comfortable on the arm chair across from him. "What were you doing there? And what'd she say in the letter she sent you yesterday?"

Ginny shrugs as if it's nothing. "I told you. Girl trouble."

He nods. "And why didn't you come home last night?"

"Hermione needed a friend."

Harry quirks an eyebrow at his girlfriend. "She needed three friends."

At that, Ginny looks questioningly at him.

He shrugs, "Ron came back a little early from Romania and came over to find Luna."

"And you just assumed that Luna was at Hermione's?"

Harry rolls his eyes at the way she's asking him as if he were a delinquent. "Of course not. Luna and Parvati were getting pretty close as of late, so we owled Neville, who owled Parvati, who then owled him back. He came over by floo and told us that Parvati told him that all three of you were crashing at Hermione's for the night for some unknown reason."

Ginny sighs heavily, mentally rolling her eyes at Parvati's incapability of keeping anything a secret. _Well, at least she didn't mention anything about Barty… that was the only thing Hermione needed to keep a secret. _"Right. Well then why'd you ask if you already knew?"

Harry lets out a long, exhausted sigh, "Gin, what's going on with Hermione? We tried sending her an owl, but all she wrote back was 'I'm fine, just please stay away until I say it's okay'… What does that even mean?"

"It means she's okay and that she needs some time and space until she thinks its okay for you or anyone else to barge into her apartment again."

"But—,"

"No 'buts'." Ginny interrupts. "Harry, she's your friend, and you know that she's more than capable of taking care of herself. I saw her with my own two eyes this morning, and she's perfectly fine. Still Hermione, still smart, and still alive and well. Okay?"

"That's not what I'm worried about." Harry says softly.

Ginny looks at him curiously. "What?"

"Is she… I mean, is she mad at me and Ron?"

"For?"

Harry shakes his head, and Ginny can instantly tell that he's hiding something.

"What is it?"

Again, he shakes his head. "It's nothing."

"Harry, I've known you for majority of my life… What's going on?"

He sighs heavily, leaning back on the couch and taking a sip from his glass of fire whiskey, probably for a bit of courage. Finally, he speaks, "Ron and I were both in Romania a couple of nights ago."

This was news to Ginny, who had thought that Harry was still in London a couple of nights ago. "You said you were in the field."

"Yes, but I didn't tell you _where _the field was."

Ginny narrows her eyes at Harry. "This better be good, or you're sleeping on the couch, Potter."

Harry sighs heavily and begins to retell the events of the past few days.

_He's not entirely sure of what he saw, so he doesn't say a thing. Surely, he's mistaken. That can't possibly be Bar—, Nahh. That wasn't him. It can't be. The guy is dead. He saw it with his own eyes._

"_Harry, I'm not sure if I'm seeing things, but that bloke looked an awful lot like… well, like—,"_

"_Bartemius Crouch Jr?" Harry finishes in a questioning tone._

_Ron nods immediately and swallows hard. Just as he was about to ask Harry if he was 100% sure the guy was dead, a loud piercing shriek pierces their ears, interrupting him. "What the bloody hell was that?"_

_Harry's eyes widen as he turns to Ron, remembering the golden egg from fourth year, and Ron asking the exact same thing when he heard a screech similar to the one they just heard a moment ago. He knows exactly what the bloody hell that was. "Dragon."_

_He's bleeding, his arm is scorching where the dragon had blown fire at him and he had barely managed to get away, and he's sweating like a racehorse. Today was indeed, not Harry's favorite day. He turns to look at the other end of the rocky terrain where they had found the dragon, to see his best friend panting heavily. He motions with his hands and calls, "You okay?"_

_Ron looks up, face almost as red as his hair and rolls his eyes. "Oh, I'm certainly enjoying myself, Harry." Ron replies sarcastically. "Whadaya think?!" he shouts snappishly._

_Harry sighs heavily and shakes his head. "We need to shut this dragon down right now, Ron!"_

"_What have we been trying to do for the past two hours? Playing hide-and-go-seek with the bloody thing?!"_

"_Quit complaining and get your arse over here. I have a plan!"_

_Ron rolls to the side and tries to sprint towards him while in a crouched position. He reaches Harry in a few seconds and looks at him skeptically. "You said two hours ago that you had a plan, and we have yet to contain that thing." He hisses._

"_Shut up!" Harry snaps. "This plan will work."_

_Ron widens his eyes comically. "Well what is it?"_

_After explaining the plan to a skeptical redhead, Harry decides that it's about time they execute it. The dragon screeches loudly as it stomps left and right, the ground shaking with its force. _

"_I hope you're right about this, Harry." Ron tells him._

_Harry shakes hi s head because he's not even sure he's right about this. "I'm not… but I think I heard Hermione saying it, and if she really did, then this should work." _

_Ron turns his head to glare at Harry. "You THINK you heard Hermione say it?! Well that is really reassuring, Harry." Ron mutters sarcastically. He exhales heavily before shaking his head and turning towards the dragon. "Well, here goes nothing." With that, he takes off in a high speed sprint towards the dragon, praying to every holy being out there that he won't be barbecue by the end of this insane mission._

…

* * *

...

Ginny squints for a long minute at Harry. "So let me get this straight. You were on a mission in Romania because the Ministry had been notified of some sort of dark activity going on there, and you saw a man who is as good as dead,"

Harry shakes his head. "Not as good as dead. He _is _dead."

"Fine. You saw a dead man, and then you had to fight a dragon?"

Harry nods, "Yes."

"And what happened to the dead man?"

Harry shrugs, "He apparated."

"And the dragon?"

Harry grins, "We managed to contain it just in time for the Aurors to arrive."

"And the dark activity?" Ginny asks curiously.

Harry sighs heavily, shaking his head. "We couldn't track it since it disappeared exactly when we saw the Crouch Jr. look alike."

Ginny nods, trying to piece everything together. "And what makes you so sure that Barty is dead?"

Harry quirks an eyebrow at his girlfriend. "Barty? Did you just give that monster a nickname?"

Ginny mentally kicks herself for the slipup. "No, it's just easier to say than Bartemius." She shrugs.

Harry rolls his eyes at that. "Well, I saw _Barty _get executed. It happened four feet away from me."

Ginny tries not to let her surprise show, and she thinks she's doing a really good job. "What do you mean he was executed? Wasn't he a kissed prisoner?"

"Well yeah, but the Minister figured that they wouldn't really care if they were killed. Would probably appreciate it even. Azkaban needs more cells now that the Wizarding community is continuing to grow with crime, so they eliminated the prisoners who were kissed."

"That's murder!" Ginny cries out.

Harry shrugs. "I didn't exactly agree with their methods, Gin, but… those prisoners deserve worse than death, and that was really an easy out for them. They're probably thanking the Ministry right now wherever they are."

Ginny only shakes her head in disagreement. "Where does Hermione come in on all of this?"

Harry gives her a confused look. "What?"

"You asked if Hermione was mad at you." Ginny say matter of factly.

Harry shrugs, "She made us promise that we would let her know if we're ever on life-or-death missions."

Ginny snorts at that. "I think that's the least of her worries."

"What makes you say that?"

Ginny doesn't answer as she turns to leave. She has to speak to Hermione first before she can process this whole thing.

"Where are you going?" Harry asks incredulously.

"Hermione's."

Harry blinks at his girlfriend in bewilderment. "Again? You just came back from there!"

Ginny shrugs, "Girl trouble... you wouldn't understand." without another word, she kisses him on the cheek before apparating on the spot.

...

* * *

…

When Ginny steps through the foyer of Hermione's flat, she's immediately hit with the strong smell of alcohol in the air. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion as she begins to worry. Hermione was never one to drink at an hour like this. It's only 3 in the afternoon, and she barely even drinks! But Barty was here, and none of them really trusts him because he's kind of a psycho. Ginny continues into the apartment, calling out Hermione's name. "Hermione? Are you here?"

No answer.

"Hermione?" Ginny continues further, turning into the den. No one. Her eyes search the entirety of the room. Barty's sheets were lying in a heap on the floor at the foot of the couch, his pillow still on the couch, but no Barty in sight. There are only two bedrooms in Hermione's apartment, so Ginny goes for the guest room first, wondering if Barty had decided to use it. She finds it empty, so she continues to the only other room in Hermione's apartment. Ginny's heart begins to race, worrying over her friend's life and safety. _What if Barty had killed her or something? What if he got her drunk and raped her? What if he's torturing her in her own bedroom? _Ginny braces herself for what's to come as she slowly turns the knob on Hermione's bedroom door and pushes the door back. Her eyes practically bulge out of her skull. She blinks several times, not really sure of what she's seeing. When she grows tired of trying to make sense of what she's looking at, she voices the words that are floating around her head. "What the bloody hell is going on?"

Hermione's head snaps up, her eyes narrowing at the owner of the voice, to find her friend standing at the door with a confused look. "Gin, be quiet." She whispers.

Ginny steps into the bedroom, looking closely at the sight before her. Barty was lying half naked in just his boxers on Hermione's bed, eyes closed as though he were sleeping, sweating, and mumbling under his breath. Ginny whispers across the room as she draws near the bed. "What's going on?"

"He's under a spell." Hermione explains. "I got him drunk enough to shut up, and so I tried the Legilimens again, and I honestly think he's more alert than he was before he was drunk."

Ginny doesn't bother trying to understand Hermione's explanation. "And what have you found?... and why is he shirtless?" she asks, quirking an eyebrow at Hermione.

Hermione rolls her eyes at the redhead. "He started stripping while stumbling towards the bathroom door and ended up running straight into the wall. That's when he passed out, so I levitated him to the bed and began the process of picking his brain apart."

Ginny nods, "And what have you found so far?"

"Not much, but I think I know how he managed to apparate straight into my flat."

Ginny raises her brows in question, "How?"

Hermione turns, pulling a book from her bedside table and flipping to a page in the far back. "He imagined it."

At that, the redhead blinks confusedly. "Sorry, what?"

Hermione hands the book over to the other girl and points to a paragraph at the top left corner. "I'm not sure of how it works, but I think he used some sort of spell to track me down. He used my address, and imagined up an apartment that looks exactly like mine."

Ginny shakes her head, not following any of what Hermione was saying. "How do you know this?"

Hermione points to Barty. "Legilimens. I _saw _him imagining my apartment. Apparently, he knows quite a lot about me, and though I'm not entirely sure of how I feel about that, I'm actually quite surprised at how much he actually knows about me. The man managed to _imagine_ up what my apartment would look like, and he was pretty darn close."

"How close?" Ginny asks curiously. This was actually getting quite interesting.

Hermione gestures around her room. "He got everything in my room correct except for the door knob, and the color of the window curtains."

"Wow… talk about creepy." Ginny mutters, eyeing the sleeping and drunk man in Hermione's bed.

Hermione nods in agreement as she looks at the man on her bed. She shakes her head at the image. Usually, when she pictures a 'man in her bed', he'd be her husband, sleeping soundly _beside _her. She pictures them both asleep when their kids barge into their room and whining about breakfast, and hopping up and down on their bed to wake them… instead, Bartemius Crouch Jr. has beat her future husband to her bed. Literally. After a moment, Hermione clears her mind of her thoughts and looks curiously at her friend. "I thought you went home to Harry."

Ginny blinks at her for a moment, trying to remember what she's doing there. "Oh." She looks between Barty and Hermione before continuing. "I did… but then Harry told me that he and Ron were in Romania a couple of days ago, and saw a Barty Jr. look-alike there."

Hermione's eyebrows shoot up at that. "They _saw _him there?"

Ginny nods in confirmation. "Thing is, Harry also _saw _Barty get executed a few weeks ago."

This, Hermione thinks, is quickly turning into a huge problem. A problem she's not even sure she can solve.

At that moment, Barty's eyes begin to flicker as he stretches his arms up over his head, unknowingly flexing every muscle in his upper body in front of the two witches watching him.

Hermione would never say it out loud, but… Barty really is, very distracting. "This is going to take a lot longer than I thought."

...

* * *

…

Author's Note: Yes, I know. It's all very confusing. But I'll explain it all in the next few chapters. I really hope you all liked this. And if you did, please leave reviews! Thank you all for reading!

-McDiggin'It


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